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So, I part ways with #BrandUganda! There is no value or satisfaction in defending an indefensible, intolerant, denigrating establishment.

I have been a good self-driven ambassador for Uganda, from my Diaspora location. Regardless of the habitual condemnation of “Diaspora nationals,” [of any country] by “those who stayed behind”. I am part of the African Diaspora, or “The New African Diaspora, herein referring to those who can trace their specific origin to any of the 54 states/countries of present day continental Africa, but live [permanently] outside their countries of birth or ancestry. We are often reminded that, “we abandoned our countries of birth/ancestral for “a beautiful life” elsewhere,” and dismissed as culturally ‘corrupted’ by cultures in our new countries of residence, unrealistic, and not attuned to events as they unfold in our countries of origin. We are often told off, by “those who stayed behind,” to stop unnecessary and undesirable interference in the national affairs of our countries of origin, which we supposedly abandoned on relocating elsewhere.

Even African Americans are often accused by Africans [including those in the Diaspora], of trying to force an ancestral link to continental Africa, yet they have no deep knowledge about it and are incapable of tracing their origin to any specific country. Plenty of Africans insist that African Americans are “Black” not African; the latter denotes “authentic” connection to the continent, while the former distinctly emphasizes descendants of slaves in America!

The fact is geography does not determine belonging to a particular social group or political entity. African Americans are as connected to Africa, as “the new African Diaspora,” by virtue of their ancestry, and preferred identification with the same geographical space. In fact, many Diaspora nationals globally, have played an important role in the welfare of their countries of ancestry or origin.

African Americans were a formidable force in the struggle for the decolonization of Africa, lobbying their United States and other western government, and through fundraising and financial donations to continental anti-colonial struggles, scholarly activism, and solid partnerships with continental African leaders and regional organizations. African Americans funded and facilitated the training of notable African leaders and scholars within the United States, hosted conferences denouncing colonial aggression and oppression, and participated in the then, Organization of African Unity (OAU) activities that culminated into eventual decolonization.

Today, the New African Diaspora, is very active in the economic, social and political development and advancement of their home countries. Diaspora remittences to many African countries supersede foreign direct investment or foreign aid, contributing greatly to the national treasury. Diaspora Africans also transfer and transmit technologies and social experiences from countries of residence to home countries. Moreover, they maintain lasting connections through family and friends “left behind,” and keep abreast with news and developments in their countries of origin. In some countries, Diaspora Africans are able to vote in national elections through their embassies or foreign missions.

True, we the Diaspora nationals are the unsung ambassadors of our countries of origin within their new countries of residence. As students or residents in our little corners here in the United States, African immigrants bring a new face of their countries of origin, among an American population that has never traveled beyond their zip code. We help undo the popular untruths among Americans that Africa is a wild jungle of war-torn countries, with poverty stricken, HIV/AIDS infected people, and potty-bellied begging orphans. Instead, Americans gain exposure to “a different African” —educated intellectuals, with a good command of the English language, healthy, and from wealthy family backgrounds. Resultantly, we, the African Diaspora alter the images about Africa, attract curiosity and potential tourists to our countries in Africa, often more effectively than our foreign missions in the United States.

Indeed, I have played my part, on flying the beautiful flag of Africa, and Uganda —my country of birth. I have embraced the mission of “undoing popular negative imagery about Africa,” in every country I have traveled to or lived, outside Uganda, most especially here in the United States where I have lived for nearly two decades. I am a self-propelled Afro-optimist, speaking and sharing my “Africa the beautiful”. As a Ugandan, I always challenge those who still identify Uganda with Idi Amin, reminding them that he left umpteen years ago, before I had an idea of who he was! In response to those who attack Ugandans as anti-homosexuality, I provide evidence that gays in fact have a vibrant social life in Uganda of weddings, funerals, parties, nights out about town, an annual gay pride, and registered civil society organizations defending LGBTQ rights.

True, slums sit side by side with upscale residential neighborhoods in the country, corner shops with tall buildings and sparkly shopping malls, and luxury sports cars cruise the city roads and country highways. Still, there is so much to celebrate about Uganda, inter alia, voted “Best Tourist Destination,” by Lonely Planet, andthe “Most Entrepreneurial Country,” by Approved Index.

Exactly why, I had no hesitation jumping onto a #BrandUganda campaign, by a group of tourism and corporate Ugandans, dedicated to marketing Uganda in-country and to the outside world. The hashtag #Ondaba went viral, t-shirts printed with #Ondaba, and selfies shared of Ugandans wearing the t-shirts. Another hostage #IAmSoUg, also went viral on twitter, posted by was used by any Ugandan engaged in ‘patriotic’ activities, like tourism in-country and abroad. The #BrandUganda group, took the campaign to Spain, as Uganda’s self-propelled ambassadors seeking to entice Spanish soccer players and politicians to add Uganda to their tourist and business destination. I cheered them on.

Now, I am done! After the sham elections of February 18, 2016, I do not want to put my energies and my name to a gangsta mafia that grants itself the privilege of ruling Ugandans with an iron fist! I am not going to sink my might into an entity, stolen from me. I am not going to smear a project with sweet perfumes, when it is stinking rotten.

To those who will ask me about Amin, HIV/AIDS and Ebola, I am no longer going to boast about the progress Uganda has made since the days of Idi Amin. Nor quickly remind them of the resilience, enterprising spirit and hospitality of Ugandans. I will not interest them in visiting Uganda, no more!

Not when my Uganda is stolen by a thieving political machinery, hanging onto power by any means brutal and corrupt! I shall no longer attract opportunities to Uganda, to be robbed by a blood-sucking dictator, killing Ugandans, for demanding change and a chance to participate freely in choosing their preferred political leaders. There are no more praises to sing about Uganda; I am no longer interested in any #BrandUganda initiatives. Plenty of those posturing as #SoUg are in fact fetching heft rewards from nurturing and maintaining a monster in power.

No longer will I say that the political evil is in the nation’s past, when the evil, abusive and monstrous government of Museveni torments my country and my peoples. I will let all who ask, about the tear gas and live bullets, sprayed, clobbering, humiliating and murdering political activists, peaceful demonstrators and active citizens. Simply because they “Say No” to corruption, demand accountability, show up to vote, or dare to match peacefully for justice and peace for all Ugandans.

It ain’t a joke entering a new year! I sat down, waiting for the clock to ring in mid-night, for the ball to drop, pondering about the uncertainty of entering a new year!

Particularly because, I was on the road, traveling out of state, away from my habitual residence, to join friends in welcoming the new year. I left Child of Mine behind, the second year in a row! I have to shamefully confess that, this is my second year, in a row, welcoming the New Year, away from Child of Mine, third out of the last four years

2013 – I was in Uganda, and welcomed the New Year with fellow Drinkers with a Running Problem, Kampala Hash House Harriers. On NYE, I went on a group run around Kampala City, thereafter hangout with the group, and at close to midnight, proceeded to Kololo hill to watch the fireworks.

2014 —I stayed home with Child of Mine, and we tossed to the new Year.

2015 — I went on a two-year run with Pocono Area Running Club, starting 23:00 on New Year Eve. The clock ticked mid-night —New Year’s Day, while alone the route. But I went back home that night and kissed a Happy New Year to COM!

2016 — I traveled to the Big Apple to join my Scandinavian friend, and his international group of friends in welcoming the New Year. I decided not to take COM with me, to give myself a break from “Being Mommy,” and a chance to “Be Doreen”. I left him with his cousins and grandmother, until the following night of New Year’s Day.

I made it safely into The City, in under two hours. I took a public commuter van into The City, for my sanity and safety —no worry about parking, falling asleep in traffic or getting stuck on the road. I slept the entire ride to The City, and woke up in time to hit the bright city lights, and right on time for the party!

Thankful for rich friends, who can afford $2M high rise apartments right above Port Authority bus terminal in Manhattan. Reminds me of my friend’s kids who used to cal me “Our Rich Auntie from the Hilton” [Story for another day]. I had a clear “Point of View” of the entire city, on the top @the35th. It looked good, a welcome escape from the hustle and bustle of the streets below, packed with New Yorkers and plenty of its tourists, trying to catch a glimpse of the ball dropping. [Oh! “The Ball” dropping! Oh the fireworks!].

Great night! Barilla pasta, and french bread; of Norwegian candy, and french champagne, of Norwegian cheese and middle eastern humus; all courtesy of my former Norwegian landlord in Oslo. An international night! With the Norwegian host, a Norwegian family, an American, a Chinese family, and a Dutch Italian pasta-making man [who made the pasta dinner], and this very Ugandan very American girl. Impressed that all the European men present said, they are the main cooks in the family!

The crowd was a pleasure! All intellectuals, and academics in universities and research institutions. We laughed, cracked joked, ate, drank, shared parts of ourselves, exchanged resolutions, and our confusions at the ‘disappearance’ of the Ball dropping and fireworks at the tick of New Year 2016!

I spent soundly throughout the night, with a beautiful view of The City, the harbor and the Hudson! I woke up, then went back to sleep, until I did not have to. Woke up, drank tea, shared our life trajectories, interrogated our insecurities and our hopes and dreams and commitments with the Dutchman, ate bread, drank more tea. Went for a New Year’s Day run in Central Park in the company of the flying Dutchman.

Back to our 35th, took a shower, went out to the grocery store and picked up a couple of ingredients for dinner. Made another pasta dinner, and tuna sauce and leftover champagne. Then it was time to head back to COM, onto the subway, the bus and Exit 302.

So, back to my resolutions

Giving more gratitude to my family and friends
i) My family, who love me regardless. I think, and I know, they love me unconditionally. Spoken or unspoken, they show me undying love. They don’t judge me, they don’t pressure me. They wait for me, to rise up, if I fall, and recuperate at my pace. They have outpouring love for Chid of Mine, steadfast love. I do not have to say it umpteen times, because they know I love them…as much as they love me…and I appreciate them. May 2016 be a year to see and enjoy the physical company of my family, more often.
ii) My friends; I have the best friends in the world —one is Resting in Peace, around me! My friends, know me and appreciate me, regardless. I can call on them in an instant, and they will listen, and hold me down. They are the best the world could ever gift anybody. They inspire me, pump me up, remind me of the beauty of the life within me, and our shared friendships. They see the good in me, and remind me of my strength. They prompt me, knowingly or not, to hang on, hold on steadfast, and continue to pursue my best. May 2016 be the year filled with friendships. Hoping to see my friends in person this year.

Understand Child of Mine (COM) much more. Continue working on being the best mother and father to this child. Work calmly and firmly with COM, listen as much as I speak to him. Support as much as I demand from him. Nurture as much as I suggest from him. Provide comfort and confidence as much as I teach him. Guide, as much as I learn from him. May 2016 also bring us another person into our lives —a partner and father figure for COM.

Become Doreen, again. Do all the things I have always done to represent my brand. Lose the baggage — on my body, my mind, my head, and get back into my fit, healthy, fighter spirit again. Get back into winning and rising above all challenges. I am no stranger to this! Find the go-getter, creator and winning innovative Doreen.
Keep an active on Social Media, communicating, learning, negotiating, and continuing to grow and thrive as a person and social being. Accepting the challenges of social media, challenge social relations and improve and grow my communication channels.

Grateful, that social media has taught me not to take personal the differences of opinion, but negotiate my place and refine my views. I have become more accepting of difference of opinions and accepted alternative reactions, even when it is personal attacks against me or bitter responses against me. Social media is social living.

Continue writing for fun, for meditation, for inspiration, to share, to relate to others, to learn, to teach and reach other. I hope to publish one or two writings in reputable fora. I hope to get back into writing for active citizenship of the African Diaspora and as a public intellectual.

Focus on finding *meaning* in life, as a journey to *happiness*. 2015 gave reaffirmation that Emotional Intelligence/“Emotional Quotient,” is as important as “Intellectual Quotient,” or “Logic”. I felt vindicated by the social acknowledgement of “meaning” rather than just “happiness,” as key to a fulfilling life.

I will keep treading the hard paths and staying the course. I will keep talking the hard talk, not shying away from it, irrespective of the audience. I will persevere, venture outside my comfort zone: commit to my social causes —of fundraising, building a brand; transforming my passion into my livelihood. I will bring my child with along with me, while we build a brand, to serve others, while also serving ourselves.

Get back into the Dating Game. Intriguingly, 2016 started off with me in the “company of men”; the right kind of men, from the geographical zones I want to live. No! I am not running away; I am running into greatness. Never “actively searched,” but I am open to different avenues of finding love, real love and commitment. I want to date.

Run four marathons in the year; three marathons will be fine. One marathon per season: winter, spring, summer and fall. If my finances will not allow me to sign up for one each season, at I will run a marathon on my own. I know I can wake up in the morning, and ran a marathon. But I hope to afford going out, and running with a group. I have identified four potential marathons, on my bucket list…two in my geographical location; one close to family [will need two air tickets] and will find another, possibly where another one of my family is located. Or another location without a need for a plane ticket or hotel accommodation.

Finally, Give less Fcuks than POTUS gave 2015. With all the achievements on the economy, diplomacy, politics and social service, POTUS still got rotten eggs slammed at him, demeaned, undermined and belittled like a subhuman. So, rightly, he ran out of Fucks to give; haters gonna hate, and he just shook it off! Same here, I am plan to care less about failure, and more about trying again. I am going to pay less attention to disappointments, and devote more attention to rising up. I am going to devote less energy into self-criticisms, and more self-appraising. I am going to shut away the misgivings, misunderstandings, and under-appreciation. I will focus more on transformation, recovery, strength and achieving.

No day goes by for me without thinking of Uganda! I haven’t been back since I left in May 2013 to return to the good ol’ USA. I have fond memories of the joyous time I had, when I took a two years hiatus from “The Home of the Brave,” carrying with me Child of Mine. Truly, Joie de vivre! I made new friends, new adventures, new discoveries, and new lessons learned.

I realized then, that I was born a “Hasher,” something I never caught up on, living my childhood in Uganda! I traveled to the most remote corners of Uganda, as a ‘donor,’ a tourist, a runner, and a community trainer and mobilizer. Plus, a “DIY Expert,” bringing back those golden days of “Bulungi Bwansi” and “Gwanga Muje,” before the NRM government and international [in]humanitarians messed up the country with “brown envelopes/handouts culture”.

Nowadays, Ugandans wait for Mzungu — white people— to come from Europe, North America, Japan or South America [Yes, in Uganda even South Americans and Japanese are “white”] to run their common sense errands. Like, plucking their jiggers, building pit latrines for them, teach them how to rear chickens or raise their kids, even if the “trusted white saviors” have never seen jiggers or a pit latrine, themselves, do not have or have never raised children or chickens! Did I say, there are white people teaching Ugandans, “The importance of hand washing after using the toilet” or “the Right to Play”? Yes, somebody, sadly ‘retired’ common sense, among a large section of Ugandans.

Still, I had an amazing experience re-living Uganda. I re-learned some ’truths’ I had taken for granted, growing up in Uganda. Since returning to my “Wild West,” I have not been able to re-live My Uganda, except bits and pieces of recaptured memories, here and there, meeting Uganda connections, or hanging out with Uganda-like social circles. Very limited!

Of course I am not romanticizing My Uganda, whichwas not without challenges and frustrations: the hustle and bustle of Kampala City can get to you, the disfunction of the public service, the excessive abuse of power by the arms of government — especially the Executive – the President’s State House, under the Executive Branch, and the police —under the Judiciary.

The President and the Police literally hold the entire country and its citizenry at ransom. The President allocates himself unfettered powers to spend the tax payers money at will. Not on provision of public and social services, but to reward political patronage, and bribe anyone who dares to oppose his “long hand” dipping in the National Treasury – including the Legislature. The Police, commanded by a military general, works not for the maintenance of national law and order, but to safeguard the interests of the President. Instead, the Uganda Police Force is embroiled in abrogating the expectations in a multi-party dispensation, and the constitutionally stipulated mandate!

Perhaps that explains why I no longer habitually keep myself abreast with news from Uganda via the national dailies. Decades ago, after changing my habitual residence from Uganda, I regularly read the national dailies online to catch up on news about Uganda. I participated in national debates, by submitting electronic letters to the Editor, or posting commentary on online news. Not anymore; too much sad news in the papers! One can sponge up so much pain and agony in their lives!

No wonder, a quick “Google” or “Bing” search about Uganda is flooded with negativity: anti-homosexuality; police brutality against opposition politicians, opposition sympathizers and civil society activists. This news travels as far as Nigeria, from where a friend recently sent me a news piece on Uganda – about the controversial “undressing of a woman under police arrest, on the streets of Kampala City,” in broad daylight!

For the most part, I source most of my news about Uganda via social media – Facebook, twitter, blogs, and via personal friends who keep me posted on exciting happenings in-country. Of course, I am spreading My Uganda, in my global orbit, whenever I have a chance — via cyber communication, within Child of Mine’s social circles, personal encounters and

As I close off the year, take a look at what captivated My Uganda 2015

Wakaliwood, the brainchild of Isaac Nabwana, a self-taught film director, and owner of Ramon Film Productions, located in Wakaliga [from which it derives its name], one of the rough-tough slums of Kampala City. I learned about Nabwana, dubbed “Quentin Tarantino” when he was featured on a BBC World Service Radio, and later on CNN Inside Africa, for using locally improvised equipment, material and skills in his movies. While Ramon Film Productions is not an official member of UgaWood, its products and the ingenuity of its founder are a force to reckon with, that put the shine on Uganda, and definitely caught my fancy!

Uganda Freestyle Kayaking team came to me via my Facebook feed, as participants in the 2015 ICF World Freestyle Kayak Championships in Ottawa, Canada in September. After numerous failed attempts, the Canadian Visa Consular ran out of excuses for denying them visas, and allowed them travel to the country. Thanks to the indefatigable efforts of their British Manager and a supportive community in Canada, through fundraising and numerous visa letter petitions to the Canadian Visa Consular in Nairobi. They had great reception in Canada from the local Ottawa community. Hopefully, next time, the organizers will reach out to Ugandans in Ottawa.

Queen of Katwe, starring the instantaneously world magnetic Lupita Nyong’o, is a biographical drama movie produced by Mira Nair (Mississippi Masala), about the real life of Phiona Mutesi, Uganda girl from Katwe slums in Kampala City, a Chess prodigy, who becomes an international Chess Master candidate after performing at the World Chess Olympiad. It is a real-life story about rags to world fame, that could inspire any girl growing up in the hard-knock slums anywhere!

Kampala Fashion Week, is growing like a storm, year after year, with amazing fashion designers, new models, new creativity and just a new, juicy, illuminating fashion, defining Kampala, and bringing joie de vivre and creativity that I know about my peoples. I was awed by pretty much all the runway fashion, particularly Jose Hendo’s collection “Resonance,” a revival of barkcloth an original Ugandan clothing material from the inner bark of a Mutuba tree (Ficus natalensis), worn before western-designs infiltrated the country, and destroyed the local garment industry. Add to that, the photo genius of Giulio Molfese, top fashion photographer in the country with a golden eye to bring camera pictures to life.

GirlGeekKampala made international news, as a hub for Ugandan women passionate about establishing their footprint “Geeking-Out” in a male dominated info-tech industry. The host incubator is Outbox, Kampala’s “Silicon Valley,” thanks to partial funding from Google. Also check out AfriGal Tech, a team of four Ugandan women software engineers building Mdex, a SickleCells app, and Hive Colab, the first collaborative Tech Hub in Uganda.

Yoza, the equivalent of Uber for Dirty Laundry, falls in the same league with tech-ingenuity coming out of Uganda. Yoza [“Wash” in English], is a locally developed app to find laundry services providers around Kampala, from the comfort of your home. Now one can nurse a longer hangover on Saturday, without the worry of laundry!

The Gay Community, deserves a special ululation here, for its continued unapologetic mainstreaming of its presence, in a society still highly bigoted toward gays. Uganda society generally views homosexuality as an immoral, abnormality, and a threat to “children” and “the ‘normative’ institution of heterosexual marriage”. But the landmark court ruling in 2014, which overturn the Anti-Homosexual Act (AHA), 2013, boosted the gay community with renewed confidence.
Highlights of the Uganda LGBTI community is the annual Gay Pride, and this year, the first SMUG (Sexual Minorities Uganda) Gala and Equality Awards held in December to recognize its supporters and allies. Thanks to its indefatigable and unabashed LGBTIs, like Kasha Jacqueline Nabagesera[who in my opinion was more deserving of the Glamor Woman of the Year Award than Caitlyn Jenner], an internationally recognized Ugandan gay, feminist and founder of the first gay NGO, Freedom and Roam Uganda. Kasha has bolded stated that while LGBTIs were until very recently a total taboos in Uganda, she never had to come out, because she was never in the closet. She has always lived openly gay, even in high school, where she got expelled from numerous schools, for her attraction and intimate fraternity with the same sex. Kasha was one of the petitioners for repeal of AHA, 2013.

@ImSoUGANDA a revolutionary twitter account invented by Ugandans, on a mission to positively branding of their country. Using #Ondaba, Ugandans share their “SoUgandan Moment,” while on adventure or tourism in-country. T-shirts with #ondaba are often worn by Ugandans traveling abroad, and pictures shared.

#UgandaInSpain, is closely related to #Ondaba, an effort by a small group of Ugandan, perhaps inspired to reverse the backlash against #SpainIsNotUganda, a hashtag from the pronouncements of Spanish Prime Minister demeaning their country. This group of Uganda tourism, sports and media personalities, took Uganda to Spain in 2015, to promote “sports tourism,” made connections with Spanish politicians, and world renown Spanish Soccer League players, and successfully lured them and their supporters to add Uganda to their tourist destinations in 2015 and beyond. #SoUganda!

Uganda wins CECAFA 2015, on Saturday, December 5 when Uganda Cranes, the national soccer team, beat Rwanda 1-0, taking home their 14th Confederation of East and Central African Football Association— title. An exhilarating moment, especially after that heartbreaking failed attempt to quality for the 2014 Confederation of African Football Cup last year, after losing to 2-0 to Guinea.

Running and Physical Fitness continue to blossom in-country, with more people taking seriously healthier lifestyles, safety-first approach or social exercising. Fundraising and fun running has caught on following the success of MTN Marathon Kampala, with a growing number of annual marathon/half-marathon/10K or 5K runs, in Kampala such as Hope Ward Run to raise money for the International Hospital Kampala, the Rotary Cancer Run to raise money for the Cancer Ward at Nsambya Hospital, and the Kids of Africa Run, toward support for a Swiss African Children’s Village. Running and fitness clubs are growing, notably Kampala Hash House Harriers, an internationally inspired Drinking Club with Running Problems, whose laid-back, no membership style, non-social stratification attracts any Kampala. Don’t be fooled, because these Drinkers run are also serious international marathoners. Fitclique Africa is the first ever women-only gym in Uganda, founded by Mildred Apenyo, a 2014 Mandela Washington Fellow Gym; Fitness 4 Life-Uganda, a gym that that offers military-style group workouts and drills in Kampala, amazingly sliming waistlines and ‘magically’ disappearing potbellies of many among Kampala’s drinking and eating spendthrifts. Triathlons and Duathlons are also catching up, as well as biking, mountain climbing, adventure parks and many more!

Pope Francis visited Uganda in November 2015, shortly after his US trip, exciting into ‘penitence’ even the bitterest enemies into lovers! His presence in country, miraculously induced a handshake between arch political rivals President Museveni, and his stingy rival Kizza Besigye! Turns out, “It was Politics, STUPID!” But the biggest accolades went to the Ugandan public, notably Media CEO and public personality, Robert Kabushenga, who led a successful fundraising drive toward support for the renovation of Uganda Martyrs Shrines in Namugongo, where the Pope was schedule to visit and conduct mass. In true Ugandan spirit of “Bulungi Bwansi,” the drive attracted Ugandans of different religions, in-country and in the Diaspora, and raised a total of UGX1.3billion [USD 384,618], through sale of rosaries, those sacrilegious Catholic prayer beads, and a Charity Walk.

Etofali Lya Buganda, which preceded Kabushenga’s Pope Fundraiser, started as an initiative to raise money for the completion of Bulange Plaza. Building on its success, popularity and public commitment among in-country and the Uganda Diaspora, Etofali extended its mandate to include other projects of Buganda Kingdom continued on various building projects of Buganda government. It caused lot of excitement, pride and prestige for Buganda!

Makerere University improved its international prestige and rankings, ascending 22 places from 891st in 2014, to 869th position, according to the Center for World University Rankings 2015, based on the quality of education and training of students, prestige of faculty and quality of research. Talking about Makerere University, I wouldn’t be doing myself justice, if I did not give a shout-out to my favorite academic and best scholarly mentor of all time, Makerere University Professor J. Oloka-Onyango, who was finally rightly honored to deliver his inaugural [ironically close to his retirement] lecture. No doubt, he has served the world renown institution with the highest prestige, dedication and distinguished honor and integrity!

And if you just wanna catch up with all things inspirational, mind boggling, challenging, or gossipy about Uganda, I recommend “scare-a-hero,” a blog by Simon Kaheru, a self-described “Professional Communicator”. Simon is an indefatigable activist for all things, deeds, thoughts, products, taught, learned Ugandan. He is a PR machine, an entrepreneur, and employer, and an innovator. He is a much sought-after “go-to-person,” and brains behind a lot of Uganda branding breakthroughs, including #UgandaInSpain, #Ondaba, #IamSoUganda. He’s truly #SoUganda No! I am not getting paid for this PR plug; I wish 😃

Ok, I will it at this. Feel free to add to the list….and let’s see what 2016 brings in My Uganda……hopefully ….really hopefully geographical proximity!Meaningfully Yours,

I never thought I would willingly and consciously arrange for Child of Mineto celebrate Christmas at my own volition. Not since I quit organized religion umpteen years ago! But, that is before I became a parent.

Before I realized that parenting is a totally new era in one’s life; of undoing one’s beliefs and comfort zone. Before I realized that parenting is not about you!

This year, I am gonna let Child of Mine experience a Christmas celebration, as part of my parenting.

On one hand, parenting is scripted. There are tons of books for new parents – the indisputable What to Expect series, starts When You’re Expecting…going all the way into the Second Year. It is so influential, that it was ‘canonized’ into a movie released in 2012, starring Cameron Diaz.

The alternative new parenting scripts include lessons that mothers of the Expectant mother/parents eagerly share, either unsolicited or unwelcome. Plus, Old Wives Tales, passed on through generations to expectant mothers and the new parents. Not to forget that, if the expectant parent(s) was/were born around little children — siblings, cousins, nieces or nephews, or friends children, The Parenting Script is available through first-hand observation.

Parenting, we tend to think, is easy peezy, right? Plenty of resources —reading all the books, listening to ‘experts’ advice and watching other parents! You swear to an entire Parenting Script of NEVERS!

- You vow never to repeat the ‘mistakes’ other parents commit against their children.
- You will not allow an unruly child in your household.
- You will not bend your rules to accommodate your child’s needs or demands.
- You will not introduce your child to any systems of socialization that you do not adhere to, including religion, entertainment, schooling or relationships.
- You will not babysit a five-year old child!

And many more!

Until one day, you actually become a parent! And wonder, whatever happened to your self-avowed script, the script passed down unto you by parents before you, the script you wrote when you were expecting, and the script you re-wrote as a new parent. Some among us even wrote our own What to Expect: The Birth Plan.

We also had our post-birth parenting scripted in our heads, laid out well-tested rules and regulations to maintain order, transmit culture and ‘good moral character’ into all children in our household. Then, one wonder why you are making so many compromises to accommodate your child’s comfort over yours!

But none of the tolerable comforts include intimacy with organized religion or becoming indolent.

Don’t get me wrong, I do not have any problem with the religious. In fact, my best friend – RIP was religious. She is one of the very few people I know, beside my mom, and my mom’s father, that practiced the humanity of religion. She was more human than religious. She was never judgmental, yet she subscribe to the new religious revivalism. The pentecostals, baptists, and the whole nine yard, who scare you and ostracize you, that if you do not convert to JC, you will go to hell fire. Or that Allah is the only true path to afterlife, and there is “Judgement Day”, when everybody is gonna be judged according to their religious practices.

See, I come from a family of multiple religious beliefs. My mother’s father came from a Catholic family, but converted to Protestantism, growing up with a Protestant family. He went on to become a Reverend, serving the Protestant Church. Two of my sisters are married to Muslims; one of my sister’s ex is Catholic; my paternal family has plenty of other religions that I can only relate to old school protestantism and veganism. So, religious pluralism was never an option for me, nor religious tolerance a luxury; it was the humane way of life.

Religiosity is rife in Uganda, where I come from. There is a prevailing expectation that everyone is religious, and anyone who says s/he is not religious —that is— does not subscribe to any of the Judeo-Chiristain or Islamic religions—is often frown upon. Yet, there is a laissez-faire approach to religious tolerance.

It is not uncommon to hear the Catholic church bells toll at the top of the hour, or the Muslim call for prayer every morning and evening. Yet, the loud noise from these places of worship has not caused a societal revolt, but taken for granted as part of social living. To some, like my mother, the morning call for prayer from the neighborhood mosque has served as her wake-up alarm clock, since I was a child. Similar to the morning cock crow in the villages.

But in America and other western societies that count themselves as “civilized,” such loud ‘noise’ cannot be tolerate, as part of social living! Or perhaps there is selective tolerance of noise in different parts. For instance where I live, the church bells doth toll, yet it is unfathomable to imagine a tolerance of the Muslim Call for Prayer!

Exposure is fundamental to nurturing tolerance of others. My siblings and I attended Catholic schools, even though we were raised Protestant. We went along with the Catholic rituals at school—going to mass, reciting the rosary, observing lent period, and anything catholicism required of us.

None of us grew larger or smaller because of practicing a religion outside our beliefs, None of us felt indoctrinated and coopted, because outside school, we were still Protestant and went to Protestant Church. Plus, to reiterate, I have catholic family, whom I love regardless of their religion, and who I do not have the luxury of discriminating against.

Coming to America changed my relationship with religion. I ran away from religion, as soon as it started confusing me. I had never imagined that one can be religious, yet pray and support dropping bombs on others.

I don’t understand religion that welcomes strangers, yet excludes those who do not profess the same religion. I do not understand a religion, that also preaches love, then practices hate and prejudice. I do not understand a religion, where “sisterhood” is built on the notion of religious belief, not family connection or our common humanity!

Although I must say that I have been embraced by some religious communities — among the Mormons, Mennonites and Catholics—whose religious convictions is informed by a sense of community and a shared humans. I have felt very comfortable among them, never felt judged, ostracized or evangelized to, but welcomed and supported as a human being.

Coupled with my upbringing, I have remained open to embrace the religious, and allow my child get a glimpse into the various religions. We participate in religious festivities with family and friends.

But, I am not about to push him into any form of religious indoctrination. I realized that his family was not willing to incorporate him into their religious festivities because of his non-religious status, and stopped trying to get him introduced to their beliefs. On the contrary, my family takes a laissez-faire approach to him or myself, recognizing that we are more than our religious proclamations!

Still, religion is not too far from Child’s mind; he is learning about various religion from school teachers. Forget about separation of church and state, in public schools! We are talking about PA, not in NYC, where a school principal recently banned Santa, The Pledge of Allegiance, replaced Thanksgiving with “Harvest Festival,” and Christmas Celebration with “Winter Celebration!

Recently, curiosity caught the best of my Child,

COM: "Mommy, what is my religion?"
Me: "You don't have a religion."
COM: "Why don't I have a religion?"
Me: "Because I do not have a religion."
COM: "Can you check my DNA and find out what my religion is?"
Me: "So, I can know your religion from your DNA?"
COM: "Yes."
Me: "Child, you are clearly a Pennsylvanian."
COM: "Noooo! I want to be Ugandan."
Me: "Ok, you are that, too!"
[Thinking to self: Oh! It gets worse...Religiosity gets worse in Uganda!"]
😶😶

Still, we will not be subscribing to any organized religious gathering or denomination soon! But, we will accept any invitations for celebration. What better time than now in December, when we welcome Santa and his the elves, Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer, al bearing gifts on Christmas Day! While we do not put up any trees, decorate or sing carols, he gets opportunities of making trees with his Cub Scout Pack and makes Christmas wreaths and talks about JC in school.

At home, we are making gingerbread cookies, dressing up in green and red, and eagerly await Santa’s gifts under the chimney. I have already taken him around our neighbor to watch Christmas decorations and musical shows stationed in yards. No religious recitals! No religious talk!

And we will spiritually join our family in celebrating Christmas, as they do every year, and the years he was in Uganda. I doubt he remembers the celebrations in Uganda when he was three and four years. I want Child to learn that some people celebrate Christmas because of their religious beliefs. I strongly believe that exposure to religion, or other social experiments/systems, breeds understanding, and breeds religious tolerance.

The religious intolerance, witnessed among some Americas, is symbolic of when religion is treated as an “exclusive club” open only to the believers. Religion in America is largely about exclusion than inclusion of those who do not profess the same faith. Those who convert from one religion to another tend to ridicule the religion they left. Some religious groups are not receptive to curious non-religious, nor encourage partaking in the celebration of customer of other religions.

Contrary to my experience growing up with religion in Uganda. Eid Christmas and Easter are all designated as public holidays. Unlike America, only Christian holidays are accorded public recognition — Christmas is conveniently scheduled as “Winter Break,” and Easter as “Spring Break,” celebrated as days-off from work, and big shopping weekends at commercial establishments. A few establishments, employers and cities would grant “a day-off” for Muslims to celebrate Eid; in New York City, Jewish holidays and recently the Muslim Eid are designated as days-off in the school calendar. Of course the atheists and satanists aint celebrating all these religious display, in their faces!

But I want my own child growing up, with an understanding that, while mommy is non-religious, some people celebrate religious holidays. I also want him to understand that there is nothing wrong with the religious and non-religious, and none is better or more knowing than the other; they all belong to the same global society.

In fact mommy’s family is religious, and mommy friends who are religious. Mommy’s best friend who died was religious. But Auntie Jude and mommy are not religious.

I want to know that parenting involves setting goals, and exercising flexibility when raising our children as social beings. Most importantly, I want Child to know that what binds us together is our common humanity. We should be good and strive to do good to others, not because we are bound by some religious doctrine or conviction, but because it is the human thing to do.

If you are interested in law and society, which you should, if you are part of the human society!

If you are interested in law and politics, rule of law v. rule by law, you might like this piece on Ghosts & the Law, by my scholarly mentor and cheerleader. A very notable Professor of Law, scholarly activist, internationalist and indefatigable human rights activist, Professor J. Oloka-Onyango.

In his Inaugural Lecture, interestingly, coming toward the end of his academic teaching career on November 12, 2015, as Professor of Law at Makerere University, Oloka-Onyango explores once again, the ‘Ghost’ of ex parte Matovu, a very domineering and controversial casein Uganda’s Constitutional legal History, a living ghost, still haunting the present.

It is noted that Uganda v. Commissioner of Prisons, ex parte Michael Matovu (1966) fortified the notion of Political Question Doctrine (PQD) in Uganda’s Constitutional Law, by privileging unfettered Executive power over constitutional governance.

Yet again, Oloka-Onyango, who is not afraid of ghosts revisits the overdue constitutional and judicial obligation to expunge the Bad ghost of ex parte Matovu and PQD, by utilizing its ‘twin Good ghost’, Public Interest Litigation (PIL).

While PIL is relatively new in Uganda’s constitutional law, it has the potential of advocating for, and protecting the fundamental human rights and freedoms explicitly guaranteed to all persons, since the enactment of the 1995 Constitution of the Republic of Uganda. This time, the judiciary can rescue its reputation, by not shying away from taking on its mandate in litigations involving Economic, Social and Cultural Rights.

Below is an excerpt of the paper…

"So what can be said about all these ghosts that have come to us via Literature, drama and the more technologically-modern mediums, TV, radio and lm? The rst point is that they all represent some human quality: resilience, anger, torment or simple good manners. In other words, these are traits which are largely human even if they may also be attributed to the gods and spirits, and in so doing ampli ed or exaggerated. Secondly, ghosts are universal in scope, although local in application. A Nigerian incubus will not necessarily have the same traits as a troll born in Sweden. Lastly, one ignores the message that a ghost brings to one’s peril. Irrespective of the content of the message, it needs to be properly digested and applied wisely. These are all lessons that are relevant to the theory and the practice of the Law. But before turning to the Law, let us look at the arena of Philosophy."
And, if you want to read the entire paper, here is the link.
JOO INAUGURAL LECTURE Final Version, Oct 30, 2015

A BBC World Service interview this week got me thinking that, perhaps, I should say something about, “Why I Celebrate Birthdays.The interviewee was a former Somali refugee, resettled to Australia, where she has since campaigned for a seat in the Australian Parliament [If I listened to that correctly.]

In the course of the interview, the interviewee mentioned that on her nineteenth birthday, she found out that the Australian government had granted her resettlement to its country. She was living in a Kenya refugee camp, with her family had lived since fleeing Somalia at the age of twelve.

“I had not celebrated my birthday since fleeing to the camp because I did not have reason to, with my family not well. But that was the best birthday gift,” she said.

Her statement made perfect sense to me, given my attachment to celebrating Child of Mine’s and my birthday! Regardless of what others may say to me or think about birthdays, I will continue to celebrate our birthdays. I treat each birthday, as a very significant milestone in our lives. Plus, it is a memorable tradition I carry from my childhood, and a family tradition.

“Why do I care to explain,” you may ask?

Because within Child of Mine’s family, are religious opinions that, “Birthdays are pagan celebrations”. Recall, I have said before that, I do not pre-empt discussions about religion or politics with family. I stray very far away, to avoid antagonizing any souls, especially on subjects often very passionately, very dogmatically adhered to by the followers.

I will discuss or comment on politics and religion to “The World”, that is people within my social network, whom I do not share very close personal relationships. Folks, I am not exactly concerned would explode into eternally wounded hearts, if we were to disagree. I am comfortable on platforms, where I believe are for intellectual public discussions and interrogation of our differences and different understandings of social life, not personal attacks.

Still, I pride myself as tolerant of differences, never to dictate to others their ways of life, nor speak ill of their life choices and dogmas. I will raise concern and disagreement, but never to do harm to anybody! I am not religious, but I have family and friends across the religious divide – Protestant, Catholic, Pentecostal, Muslim, Seventhly Adventist, Mormon, Mennonite, and plenty more religions. Religious tolerance is not a cliché in my life; it is a way of life. After all, we are all humans first!
So, I take offense to anyone trying to dissuade me from celebrating a birthday using, “Because it is evil!” I do not speak ill about your religious practices, regardless of my views on religion, and I would expect the same respect. Anyway, no arrows from here, but let me give a little insight into why others, like me celebrate birthdays, and will keep doing so.

For the Somali refugee on BBC, she left behind a lavish middle class family background in Somalia, when she fled to a life of living displaced, desperate and disposable in a refugee camp in Kenya. Thus, her nineteenth birthday gave her an insurmountable reason to celebrate, yet again!

In her words, she had not celebrate since she left Mogadishu at twelve years of age! Her father and brother were shot and killed in front of her mother and herself. Her family had been involved in a life-threatening accident while in the refugee camp, and had remained terribly sick; conditions had never been the same again. In fact, she turned down a scholarship opportunity to study in Canada, deciding against leaving her family without a caretaker.

So, a resettlement opportunity to Australia, to start life anew was more than enough reason to celebrate her nineteenth birthday; as a promise of living life anew and rebuilding hers and that of her family. And to smile again, in safety, away from the fear of rape and physical violence that characterize life within the refugee camp.

I am also reminded that, where I am from, children are not guaranteed to live beyond their fifth birthday. For instance, in my country of origin Uganda, under-five childhood mortality, the number of children who do not live to their fifth birthday, is 69 out of 1,000 live births. And with life expectancy at birth at 59 years, these are more than justifiable reason to celebrate every year beyond the fifth birthday, and every year beyond 59 years of age.

Perhaps more personal to me, celebrating birthdays was a significant part of my family tradition, growing up. Even if we ate popcorn and black tea, we still celebrated each and everyone’s birthday in my family. Only my father did not know his exact birthday, but guesstimated from his mother’s death.

My paternal grandmother died when my father was still breastfeeding. Nor did his father keep an exact record of his birthday. Popsy finally settled for one date December 12, he would get rather excited, order whatever anyone wanted, and made all us danced the night away on our living room floor! We partied! We enjoyed each other!

All the many ways why I love celebrating birthdays, believe in the social value of celebrating birthdays, and as I have said, will continue, until child of mine says, No More!

“Yes, until when it was no longer a wise decision to go outside the house,” I told him.

I grew up in Kampala, Uganda during the war that ushered in the current president and national government. [Please believe it; some presidents stay on for over 29 years!]

I told my son that,

“Similar to our routine, my mom loved reading to me. One day, while we were reading outside our house, two soldiers walked into our yard about six-thirty o’clock in the evening. Just as my mom was about to run away, one of the soldiers told her, “Do not run, there are several more following right behind us.” Indeed, seven more followed and casually entered our house. They took about everything we owned, including plates, curtains, blankets, beddings, kitchenware and clothing. Once they were done, they asked my mother to walk them to the neighbor’s house and ask the neighbors to open their house; to get robbed too!”

Visibly overwhelmed, my son asked, “Wow! Weren’t you scared?”

I told him that I was scared, we were all scared. But life went on. In fact we went to school the next day.

He asked again, “How did you survive? You are here!?”

I told him that we went to school until it became extremely unsafe to continue, or keep living in our hometown. I explained to him that the soldiers did not always roam our neighborhood during the day. Either because they were sleeping off the exhaustion from robbing people’s homes at night or they were out terrorizing other neighborhoods or mounting roadblocks to hijack motorists and passengers.

He was visibly shocked and scared! More so, when I told him that soldiers killed and robbed people!

“I thought, soldiers are nice?” he said.

“Well, the current soldiers [in Uganda] are quite different,” I told him. “They are more disciplined.”

He asked me, “What does disciplined mean?”

“To behave well. They behave better than ones we had growing up [in Uganda],” I answered.

“You know the soldiers were terrible! They walked into people’s homes, stole property and often shot people to death. They shot and killed people on the streets for no specific reason.”

When I was little and living under war, we could not even turn on the lights or put drapes in our house at night because we did not want the soldiers to know there were people living in the house. Most of our neighbors had abandoned their homes and moved out of the country. We ate dinner using kerosene lamps [showed him a google picture of today, the typical kerosene lamp used in plenty of Africa], sitting in the corridor, where it was hard to see the light or movements inside the house. Immediately after dinner, we went to bed. In fact I slept under the bed all the time, out of fear that soldiers would see me on the bed. Most of my family lay on the floor at night.”

“Wow mom! That is scary! And you are still alive? You are here!

Yes, it was a terrible experience, and to anyone else reading this! Amazed, as well, how we survived through it and lived to tell our story! For us, it was “business as usual”: We went to school everyday, returned home alive, cooked and dinner and fell asleep. In fact, my brother and I walked to school, not far from home. Since I was still in elementary school, I always got back home earlier than everybody else. Then, I would climb up and sit in the tree in our yard, waiting for my mother and older siblings to return home. Interestingly, my family and I were oblivious to the possibility that anybody passer-by, could easily see me up in the tree and try to harm me. Or that the soldiers could shoot me down!

Until that near fatal morning, when soldiers went door-to-door looking for rebel fighters, and killing and raping everybody they came across. In a rush and intense fear, we forgot to lock the door leading outside, when the soldiers approached. By a strike of luck, we survived when a soldier called his friend, who was about to open our door, to a proceed to an open house in sight! Thereafter, my family decided it was too risky staying in my hometown, so we joined the trail of ‘refugees’ fleeing their homes in war-torn Uganda. One of our neighbors was not lucky to escape, fatally shot, as he was rushing to the latrine to relieve himself of diarrhea.

I can go on about growing up and schooling in war time. Even that incident, walking home from school against the advice of the school principal, two days before the current government took over, as soldiers of the old regime were retreating from the main capital. When I got home and knocked at the door, my mother thought it was the solders; she opened the door wailing. She told me that one of our neighbors was raped by a soldier.

N’way, this story was for my six-year old American child, to let him realize that, playing guns, bombs and making people dead is not fun! It is not funny fantasy, as his play circles and Growing Up American, seems to make him believe. I am glad he is able to reach deep inside and get shocked. I am glad he has proposed on his own, to avoid guns and shooting games. Instead, he will build houses, hotels and more fun meaningful stuff in Minecraft. And at “S”’ party this weekend, he is not going to play, “making people dead”; he will play something else, so he said. Hopefully, he can pass on this education about the deadly not toy weapon to his friends and future generations.